Dr. Guido, doesn't want to be called "director," but rather "líder" (leader), and doesn't want us to call it "clinic," but rather "Centro de Salud," (Center of Health) because of the associated connotations ...
Begin work and see a blur of patients -- women my age (early sixties) who look eighty...weathered, wizened, exhausted -- muscle aches which they claim are their "huesos" ( bones) protesting.. no small wonder -- their daily task which is to feed the family has them laboring in the field, harvesting, carrying firewood in -- and everything is transported in the bulging, vibrantly-colored striped mantels slung on their backs.
Sweet, nice-looking woman of 39 years old, today, has never had a Pap smear. Not afraid to do it, though, she says ... just never came up ...she agrees she should have one and then we tell
her to make sure her daughter gets one when she is 18. She agrees.
Funny thing is -- they are all like this -- compliant and patient as they wait for a couple of hours to be seen. They all seem eager to have proper meds and modern medical help ... and yes, eyeglasses.
The ones who speak Quechua are clearly the poorest. They come dusty and dirty with broken shoes and ripped clothing. Yesterday, one of the doctors I was helping asked what the stripes of dark discoloration were on the young girl's chest and stomach, thinking it was a skin condition or signs of another disorder. Mamita started laughing --the "condition/disorder" is a set of deeply etched stripes of dark dirt.
"Mami Walli"
So, we're ready to leave for the day and everybody's gathering up materials and
heading out for the bus ... I happen to ask one of the Clinic staff what is beyond the dusty wall
outside the back door, and which we all passed by, as we walked to the building where
our lunch had been set up. It had the words "Mami Walli" written on it.
We're talking about two steps out the back door and another eight steps to where we ate.
Word-freak that I am, I had been curious all day as to what the Mami Walli sign, hand written, but
with happy strokes and color, meant. The fellow I ask is the generous Quechua speaker/IT fellow
who helped us yesterday and came back just to help again. He absolutely insists I hear about and
go out to see it "... pero se me pierde el autobus!," I try to leave. " No, no, profesora, tiene que verlo," he insists
and prevails.
He explains ... the Mami Walli sign on the worn, used wood wall designates "Mommy's Home",
a little compound for new mothers about to give birth and those who have given birth. It is
part of the Clini ... whoops, Centro de Salud. So, unlike the US where women go in and drop their
babies and leave the next day (in Europe they still stay in the hospital for a several days, up to
a week after childbirth). Well, the Quechuan women come, give birth and then go to these
little temporary shelters which all face each other into a common courtyard. So, to make it
comfortable and what they are accustomed to, they can elect for a shelter with gas for cooking or wood
stove (of course there is no electricity or running water in the individual huts. Pedro opens
the wooden door, the courtyard is simply dry dirt and dusty clay ...
there is a communal sink in the middle ... there is a little dusty, really dirty small child who is peering
out and comes to his "doorway" ... I peek in ... equivalent digs to what I have seen at the Reed Peoples'
huts -- manteles thrown on top of platforms of some sort to serve as a bed ... nothing more ...
The women stay for six to seven weeks if all is normal ... then they can go back
to the "comunidades" (out-lying remote villages). By that time they will have healed and
the infants are more likely to survive. As they stay here, they can socialize and help one another,
and the Centro is literally right out the door, should they need anything. I find it fascinating and
heartening.
By the way, in Quechua, women are called "Mami" or "Mamay" in direct address ... it is
said with great affection and respect ... (the first time I heard it, I was surprised on my flight
from Lima to have an older man address me this way... ) So, there is respect for motherhood, it seems.
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